Crew: Lynda & Julian
We finally got the start right this year, the secret was to
get the boat sorted out the weekend before. The previous Saturday had been
spent cleaning, stocking, refuelling, stowing and sorting; all quite
pleasurable in the company of Ragman's Trumpet. That evening we had dinner at the RSrnYC with the Aspinall’s, excellent company; a lovely day that even Lynda enjoyed. Well prepared, we were able to get down to Meltem on the
Friday night in time to put our clothes and food on board and have dinner; all after a very full days work.
Saturday
Well prepared we were able to set off at six in the morning
in fine weather for Cherbourg with a light westerly forecast – the crew had
voted for a day sail. Breakfast was most comfortable as we went down the Solent
to Yarmouth. However at Bridge it became rather rough and the wind got up
enough to have the boat heeling well over with one reef in the main. This had
not been on the agenda! Fortunately just as the crew were starting to get a bit
iffy the wind dropped so the sea flattened out. The rest was as expected, a
rather boring motor over the Channel, the only interest being the tidal calculations.
We arrived in Cherbourg in good time to have a shower and a
fine French three-course meal at the Yacht Club. This had much improved
facilities and was quite welcoming. The food was good value and well prepared,
unfortunately the evening was slightly marred by the price of two bottles of
“Vin de Table” we consumed – 100FF each. Mental note: always check the price
before ordering! On the positive side it was still Saturday and the holiday had
well and truly started.
Sunday
We woke to the sound of the Church Bells, which were quite
near to where we were on the new visitors moorings. After a wonderful evening
the weather had become cloudy but still fine for our relatively short hop to St
Vaast. Fortunately the tides were ideal for a mid morning departure so we had
time for a leisurely breakfast of croissants and fresh bread with some “bon
maman” rhubarb jam – perfect!
Like the crossing the passage was uneventful, motoring all
the way past the three cardinal marks then the great lighthouse at Barfleur
until the familiar Isle de Tatiou came into view. We were part of a small
flotilla taking advantage of the east going tide to get to St Vaast before it
went foul. It became really hot so we slowed for a while to allow Julian to
have a quick swim in what we thought was a rather chilly sea. We were soon rounding La Gavandest and La Dent before coming to the lock leading into the harbour and the visitor’s pontoons. After a short trip
to Messieur Gossellin to make sure he was still in business and obtain
essential supplies we ate at Le Ancre, almost next door to the Café du Port but
rather better. It was great to have a traditional French meal; soupe de
poisson, raie, fromage then some tarte du pomme washed down with a very pleasant Cote du Rhone.
Monday
The arrival of morning
brought clouds and rain but we had planned it to be a rest day so didn't
As soon as we reached the Island the sky opened up so we allowed ourselves to be guided into the “Abri” for a short briefing on the Island. First stop was the museum of fishing and marine life; there were only a few real artefacts and the lights kept on failing so we didn’t linger. We moved on to the tower as soon as the weather eased up and let us stay dry. This was really interesting with cells on the ground floor, two wonderful circular rooms leading to the tower with its superb view. The rest of the Island was all a bit mediocre but it made a good trip; we decided that next time we'd go to the rather attractive restaurant near the tower.
The afternoon was relaxation time; we got a few things and talked a great deal to the really friendly group of French people on the yacht in the next berth. They came from Le Harvre and thought that St Vaast was the best place in the area; unfortunately I confused them by asking to borrow their Trout instead of hosepipe (In french, they're similar), which caused great guffaws of laughter. Julian made friends with the children on Marionette, a Moody 34 moored on the adjacent pontoon, who were also very friendly and good company.
That evening we went to
“La Chaisse Marie” which must be one of the best restaurants in town. The Fuchsia in the Hotel de France also has a formidable reputation and was visited
by the family from Marionette. We had a superb meal in a most attractive room,
modern maritime in style. Everything chosen was cooked to perfection and served most efficiently; fortunately it didn't cost a Kings Ransom.
Tuesday
Much to Julian’s dismay Marionette and Lady Galadrial went on to
Courseille; we wanted to see the Iles St Marcouf and Grandcamp so we left with
the tide on a grey day and soon got wet in a shower. Julian was quite unaware of this
as he had decided to sleep in the morning until 11 o’clock regardless of our
plans. Fortunately the weather improved by the time we approach the Islands
where there was just one French boat at anchor when we arrived. The anchorage was
much smaller than expected, four boats would make it crowded. It's certainly
exposed but in the shallow area to the south of the northern Island between it
and the reef to the west, the water is much calmer. It was safe, even in the wind we experienced, which must
be the worst, a south easterly. We anchored a boat length away from the reef and
find it surprisingly comfortable, the sun even came out!
Several other yachts arrived, only two anchor so it remained comfortable. Lunch was a delight; the weather was fine and the spot perfect
– the old fort to the North and flocks of seabirds on the Island reserve to the
South. We didn’t feel secure enough to go ashore however as it is still blowing
quite strongly and anything could happen, If it can it usually does! Soon after
two o’clock it clouded over and the sea started to roughen, so up came the hook and we headed
for our destination via Utah beach. This was
The entrance to Grandcamp shown on the chart is across a rocky plateau that proved difficult to find until we are very close by. We entered on a rising tide as the pilot indicated that it was safe then but found there was very little water under the keel. Soon Lots of boats streamed out so we assumed the lock has just opened, rather later than expected. We carried on regardless as the tide was rising fast and got into the basin to moor as the first new visitor; as a result we were able to go alongside a finger instead of mooring bow too like subsequent visitors.
The pilot describes Grandcamp as a second rate seaside
resort with a fishing fleet; we subsequently hear it regarded as a fishing port
that welcomes yachts which is more apt. The basin is cluttered, the facilities
poor, the houses and shops shabby but it does have a certain charm and it is
interesting to watch a different type of French people en vacance.
We ate on
board as the restaurants didn't look particularly good or even good value as
indicated by the pilot. The only attractive restaurant on the quay was very
expensive so we tucked into some of M. Gossellin’s cassoulette with some red
wine. (A meal much approved of by our French neighbours at St Vaast). We watched the world go by from a bar that evening which proved to be surprisingly
interesting; little children singing, older ones larking about on bikes, older
still chatting each other up, even older ones walking their babies and the real
oldies watching.
Wednesday
Even Grandcamp has a good Boulangerie so after a quick visit
to prepare for lunch we got ready for the lock opening. There was excitement at
the Capitainerie, or more correctly the Bureau de Port – “un cas de vandalism”.
The glass door had been smashed mindlessly as some time in the night. We're
not sure what it says about the place but doesn't add to its attractiveness,
probably someone from the camping nearby.
We made our departure in a leisurely manner; a Southerly was forecast so we got all
the Spinnaker gear out in eager anticipation. This involved repacking the 1.2 oz kit in the
new squeezer bought the previous week specially for the trip. We left a good
half an hour after the lock opened to be on the safe side. However,we still forgot to
untie the stern line, which causes some interesting manoeuvres and some
embarrassment to the crew. Out to sea the wind, predictably, had gone east
overnight so it was a beat again. We were soon bored, so motor at times, approaching Arromaches just before Midday.
The huge caissons of
Mulberry Harbour loom large ahead but concern over the many wrecks makes us motor
cautiously. Later we find this was unnecessary as they had been either
cleared or were well buoyed. The great shoe boxes of concrete towered over us,
dark and forbidding, as we passed evoking thoughts of the times long ago when
they were the centre of furious activity. That life and death struggle seemed far away, contrasting strongly with the pleasure boats that were then circling
round or at anchor.
We located the buoyed entrance without incident and entered to
find it practically empty; why we cannot imagine, as it is an excellent
anchorage. We were soon secure in 3.5m of water above a sandy bottom well away from the shore as it shoals so gradually. We were just about slap bang in the middle of the harbour area where
the three access pontoons from Arromaches had led to.
We had lunch in
splendid weather then could not resist a swim. The water was clear and it was easy
to see that the anchor had dug well in so we could have gone ashore if we had
wanted to. It was glorious sitting there by ourselves with only the occasional
dingy coming out from the beach to take a look. Such a shame the tides forced us
to stay for the afternoon!
Eventually we weighed anchor and sailed in the brisk breeze the
last few miles to Courseilles, which was easy to identify by its two piers
marking the channel. It's rather curious, a line of houses and hotels then a little hole into which boats disappear now and again, no sign of any harbour or
masts. We motored up the channel with plenty of water, the swing bridge
conveniently opened as we approached and we entered the main basin with the visitors
moorings opposite.
The new marina up the river to the west is only for small
boats so we had little choice where to moor. The only spare visitors mooring lacked a stern
line so we carried on and went alongside at the end of the pontoon between
Marionette and Lady Galadriel. Julian was delighted to have some company of his
own age once again and we received an invitation for coffee and liquors after
dinner. We ate on board, a light vegetarian pasta dish which was quite
appropriate after the rather comprehensive lunch earlier. Lady Galadriel is
a Moody 375 owned by Mike and Angie Williamson, a paediatrician from
Chorleywood. Marionette is a Moody 345 owned by John and Sue who live in
Norfolk; between them they have four children of every age down from Julian.
They both sail on the East Coast and have met up before. They had some
interesting logistics to get to Normandy involving a preparation trip to Poole
to pre-position the boats.
Thursday
We settled into a morning routine whilst passage making; waking
at 0650 to hear the shipping forecast. We made tea, read and/or wrote in bed
for a quiet hour then set off to the local boulagerie for breakfast and
papers. By the time I returned to the boat everyone was ready for breakfast.
Courseilles was very different to Grandcamp being a
reasonably upmarket holiday resort with a small fishing fleet, which appeared to
exist to serve the needs of holidaymakers. A short walk to the east is the main
street running parallel to the harbour. At the seafront end is an aquarium, there are a number of restaurants starting with the Hotel de Paris, followed by shops of every type including some good sources of quality food.
That day was a lay day but the weather was a bit cloudy and showery so we decided to stock
up the boat after seeing the aquarium. This was quite interesting with a
“Tunnel” with fish on either side as well as above you. They are all fish
caught in the area; the familiar ones plus many that the French are interested
in but don’t appear in England. It was a good opportunity to remind ourselves of the
names in French of the fish we like. The tour finished with an interesting
video covering the sea and the effect pollution has on it.
The next priority was to
book dinner so after some investigation and avid reading of menus we made a
reservation at the Paris, because it looked so impressive. We toured the small
shops gradually accumulating a substantial load of fromage, poisson,
charcuterie, various vegetables and wine. Groaning under the load we struggled back but still had to return to the supermarket once more for some staples. After
lunch the weather cleared and Julian headed out towards the beach with his friends,
we followed a little later. These are nearby just over a swing bridge on the river
leading to the small, newer marina. The beach is wonderfully fine sand and
stretched on and on, with few people, it was perfect. We choose a sheltered
spot in the dunes and settle down for a good read. All of a sudden the light
seemed to be switched off, a line of black storm clouds advance and it’s all
over. We headed back to the Yacht club taking our ollies, which is just as well as the
heavens opened up as soon as we got inside.
It’s a gem, but unfortunately very
underused outside club events. The members had taken the effort to renovate it in a
At the Hotel de Paris we were initially most impressed by the
manager who escorted us to our table and the first course of fruite de mer.
Unfortunately this didn’t last as the service deteriorated and the food was
overcooked.
Friday
In deference to Julian and friends we planned to move on to
Deauville although it would have been quite nice to visit the new marina at Dives as they did. For Deauville, the tides allow a narrow window so we needed to leave at 8am. This came and went without a departure so it was “Diving into Dives” after all and we all left together at about 9am. We took the trip a bit too casually and even tried to sail
oblivious to the tight tidal window so after a hurried radio conversation we
motored on at full speed arriving at 1130, just before the last predicted time of
entry at 11:45. Lady Galadriel entered first having a draft of 1.3m agreeing to
give a running commentary of the depths experienced on channel 8. We anxiously
make our approach and are really surprised to find that there is a minimum of
3m in the channel which allowed us to enter Port Guilliam without difficulty.
The
extra clearance was puzzling until I obtained a local tide table, which showed a
difference of 1.5 hours from Macmillan’s! The rising tides prove
to be quite remarkable increasing by up to 2m in an hour! At “half tide” the
water is still flowing out of the River Dives and it changes to high water in
2.5 hours.
We had lunch on board in the hot sunshine then set out to
explore. Port Guilliam is central to three towns, Houlgate to the east, Cobourg
to the west and Dives just inland. Houlgate looked attractive from the sea and
it was, with a wealth of Norman style half timbered “sea side” architecture. In
the past it must have been really chic and although a bit worn still retained a
great deal of charm. The front was highly organised for bathing and really
attractive.
At the far end was a rather smart building that formed the centre
having a large terrace; we couldn’t resist having a glace here. Walking back we were able to see across the estuary where the tide was right out leaving it quite dry,
the fishing boats having to remain tied to the quay. Smaller boats dried out
and the bare bones of long forgotten wooden boats sat in the mud to the north
of the marina. Closer to the Marina was a passurelle leading over the river to
Coborg, further still was the gantry supporting the now little used mooring of
the Coborg Yacht Club. That evening we ate on board again and it was our turn to
entertain with coffee and calvados – most convivial!
Saturday
By unanimous vote another lay day! The morning was market day
in Dives so we visited the magnificent 16th Century covered market or
“Halles”. The array of produce is breathtaking. There were tables groaning under
the weight of fromage, especially cheve, every kind of charcuterie, vegetables
and many specialist stalls such as ones for mushrooms. The boudin looked particularly good ( and popular) both noir and blanc, all home made. Much of
the cheese is direct from the farm – fomage fermier. Diplomas for excellence
being proudly displayed together with the “medal d’or” on the best specimens.
We regretted the lack of an effective fridge; we could have filled it instantly.
At the back of the Halles there was a fish market, which, although quite small, was equally appealing. It’s popular with the locals and very crowded. Apart
from the fruit de mere (crustacia) there was every kind of fish, Lien – Pollack,
St Julien, Dorade, in fact every type that's edible and all really fresh and
appealing.
The next treat was the
cave, at the side of the market a stairway leads down to a most attractive old
vaulted cellar. Here you can taste, discuss and carefully choose what you want
from an amazing selection of wines and spirits. The proprietor is helpful,
knowledgeable and interesting but also good fun so we feel obliged to reward
his efforts by buying more that we need.
We returned to Meltem for lunch then it was back over the river
to the beach for the afternoon. To the eastern end of Cobourg the beach is less
formal, wilder and less crowded. Swimming is not easy as the water is so far
out across the sands. It's not surprising that from the sea, when the tide is so far out, the channel and navigation lights
look peculiar, seemingly stranded on sandbanks. We visited the Yacht club on
the way back, which was practical and friendly rather than elegant and formal.
During the day there had been a lot of activity at the
marina as it was a fete with blessings of boats, a procession of decorated
boats with the most impressive being the fishing boats with their garlands of
paper flowers. In the afternoon there had been various games fir children and a
series of stalls selling yet more local produce. The evening was going to be the
climax with a band, Strand Hug who were to play at the foot of the steps by the
bistro. By chance we had decided to eat there that evening and inadvertently
had booked grandstand seats. The band were a sort of ancient mariner folk group
playing sea shanties that all sounded very familiar even if the words were all
in French. The meal could have been better but they were overwhelmed by numbers
but this didn’t stop us from enjoying the evening immensely.
Sunday
As everyone was enjoying Dives we unanimously agreed to stay
and have another lay day. Julian went off to Honfleur with the others whilst we
explored Cobourg. The town is centred on the Grand Hotel and Casino, which is
right in the middle of the beach. In front of the hotel is a semicircular road
with several concentric rings from which radiate a number of roads, all very
organised. The casino was being re-built so was a bit lacking but the gardens
and surrounding buildings were really attractive making it all very stylish
even if a bit past its prime.
The main street has lots of shops; most still open even
though it was a Sunday so it was easy to accumulate the ingredients for a
gourmet meal for the evening, we chose some wonderful plaice (filleted as we
watched) and tart aux pommes. We cooked the fish “en papillote” which was a
safe option on board a boat and had it with ratatouille and sautéed potatoes –
it was delicious!
That evening was to be that last together with Marionette
and Lady Galadriel as they had to leave the following morning for Brighton,
then Dover and on homewards allowing a lay day at each stop. That evening
there was much discussion of the latest synoptic charts, just received by HF
radio; fortunately it all looked quite favourable.
Monday
A sad start; five gloomy teenagers sitting on the pontoon
contemplating the inevitable departure that signaled the beginning of the end of
their holiday and their time together. Ahead was the long sail back to Brighton,
Dover and home taking three full days plus a couple of lay days. Preparations
for the passage prolong the agony but eventually goodbyes rang out and they were
off leaving the marina strangely quiet and empty.
A little later we set
off for Deauville, which is only seven miles away, in the light winds it is not
worth hoisting the sails. In a very short time we can saw the distinctive
outline of the Casinos and soon after were entering the harbour, which is very
straightforward. A sharp right takes us through the lock and into the new
marina, the visitor’s berths are on the outside and relatively inaccessible but
we found one on a finger close to the land side. Unfortunately we didn’t notice
some damaged woodwork with an exposed screw, which, after a light nudge
severely gouges the hull.
The outlook is not particularly welcoming with lots of flats on one
side, a desolate beach on the other and solid blocks of characterless flats
ahead; no sign of marina facilities anywhere. We were strangely alone and
uncomfortable but strode out to explore in the direction of the old basin. It was hot, the crew were against walking so when the Yacht Club loomed ahead we succumbed to the temptation to try it out. Although largely empty we received a wonderful
welcome from the staff in particular, an officer of the club – all white knees and teeth.
Royal Southern members are particularly welcome there due to the May regatta; in a
mixture of English and French we found out about the town and berthing. The
inner basin is more picturesque but less accessible than the marina to the sea.
It’s also closer to the beach so we felt we'd made the right decision after all.
Unfortunately the club closed for an hour for lunch at 1pm! If not it would
have been a long session. As it was they had to change the beer barrel whilst
we were there; we were told this happens frequently when Royal Southern members
were there!
After lunch back on Meltem we relaxed on the beach. This was
highly regulated, lots of well raked sand, rather artificial looking umbrella's, a backdrop of beach buildings, low white changing rooms and clubs. There were
lots of people; the tide was out so there were acres of sand full of serried
ranks of sun worshipers including some impressive topless girls. It's a good beach for
swimming, the sand shelves slowly and the water is quite warm. All too soon we
ended up being urged back by a particular member of the crew for showers. This meant discovering the hidden subterranean facilities, which are really well, organised
by “madam”. The are complete with essential supplies including some much needed ice.
For the first evening we decided to splash out on a meal so
went off early in search of the town centre and a table reservation. After a
brief survey we choose the “Bistro Gourmet” which is just off the centre, booked a table then sat in a café to watch the world go by for a while. Its clear why
Deauville is often called the 21st Arrondisment; the people are very
Parisien in nature, its chic and has a
style similar to parts of Paris. There are even the tall cylinders for posters
just like Paris, we almost expected to turn a corner and find an Art Deco metro
station. The people parading past are fascinating – of all ages, quite a number
of elderly people dressed very smartly often with dogs, many young people
showing off their fashionable clothes with every variation in between. In
contrast to St Malo there are no “campers”, this is a place where everyone
wants to make an impression.
The meal was excellent; our choice we subsequently find out
is one of the best restaurants in Deauville and is not unreasonable in terms of
value. Wonderful soupe de poisson, assiette de fruite de mer, salmon en pappillot
and fromage. We created confusion by preferring the French menu to the English
one – the expectation being that English cannot speak French which was true of
other tables but in the end they were very courteous and responded well to our
preferences – unusual!
Satisfied we return to Meltem after a short promenade – the
town was clearly going to stay up much longer than we were. There seemed to be
much activity in the direction of the casino with lasers slicing the night sky
most impressively.
Tuesday
Honfleur is not easy to get into; it is very crowded and the
lock gates only open HW +/- 1 hr. There is a new basin being formed between the
old one and the channel but although the lock is operational there are no
pontoons so we decide to leave this destination for another trip and have a lay
day to discover Trouville.
First of all we went into Deauville to get the ingredients of
a meal for the evening as well as some other stores. Early in the morning is
always the best time to see a place and this was no exception. Walking past the
beach was an inspiration for a painting; groups of polo ponies being exercised,
surreal forests of furled umbrellas and odd people exercising their dogs.
Further into town the Marie looked splendid in the morning sun with a mass of
flowers outside making a dazzling patchwork quilt of colour that is so
different from the subdued evening hues. The main “place” with fountains that
forms the centrepiece of the town and was full of activity the night before was strangely empty and quiet, only street cleaners and a few early shoppers were to be seen. The new centre of activity was the market, which, at eight
o’clock was just about set up and ready for business.
This was almost as good as
Dives but more compact and open every day. How all the stallholders and the
food shops do so much business is a puzzle – there must be a lot more residents
than at first appears. The now familiar stalls laden with fromage, charcuitery,
vegetables and other farm produce were a joy to browse through. The adjacent fish market contains some very large stalls with carefully arranged piles
of fruit de mere. These look visually attractive, even if seemingly unstable and
about to fall over at any time! There were moules, pinks, greys all set in the
watery context of the market that really smells of the sea – heaven! We could have spent all morning shopping but move on. The other shops in Deauville were equally interesting but in
different ways; there were many interior furnishing shops with all manner of
interesting bits and pieces, antique shops that are chic rather than stuffy,
book shops, a poodle parlour and of course lots of small boutiques full of
attractive and fashionable clothes.
By the time we returned to
Meltem the town had become a hive of activity once more with lots of bustle and
active bars. We went to explore Trouville in the deteriorating weather. There
is a little ferry that goes across the lock entrance to the other side of the
old basin and Trouville. We landed by the Thermal baths, which are rather palatial, then
started to walk down by the old port along a line of restaurants and souvenir
shops. We were quick to come to the conclusion that the only presents to take
home are food and drink, the other trinkets were worthless.
After lunch in a creperie we returned via the south end of the
basin as clouds started to clear allowing us to have a short spell on the
beach for the afternoon. This was a test of fortitude – the wind was quite strong
and gusty. Sheltering under the arm enclosing the marina we watched the other
beach lovers being blasted by the desert quality sandstorms; such persistence!
In the shelter we find we were attacked by a hoard of Ladybirds; this was rather
difficult as they are highly irritating but we were forbidden to hurt or even
disturb them. We were pleased to eat onboard; the sky opened up with
torrential rain for the whole evening, no hope of venturing to the casino or
anywhere else. If we'd have decided on a takeaway we would have needed full ollies
to get there and back.
Wednesday
We had planned the passage to Fecamp carefully; as usual the
timing is critical. We need to leave as soon as we can but at the first lock
opening there appeared to be little more than a trickle of water in the channel.
A catamaran agrees to radio us with the depth and is astonished to find 2.5m!
We were soon through the lock and cautiously left the sandbanks and Deauville
behind.
The trip was relatively uneventful; the tide set us a bit
too far down the Seine, which gave us a grand view of Le Harvre. The sea off
Port Antifer was a bit rough for some unknown reason but Fecamp appeared rather
earlier than expected. This was just as well as it was quite a slog with light
winds; as usual what there was appeared on the nose so it was motor sailing for
much of the time. The good news was that we arrived a little earlier than
expected in time for a good look around the town.
After berthing in double quick time we went off to visit the Benedictene Palace. It was fantastic; right in the middle of this rather seedy industrial area of the town is this monument to the production of the liquor whose opulence contrasts vividly with the surroundings. Built at the turn of the centaury by Henri Le Grand, who was proprietor of the Brand and presumably the person who had established it, as a memorial to his achievements. A folly really, but on a grand scale providing successive generations with an interesting tourist attraction and an excellent means of marketing the company and its products. For a very modest sum one can visit the “museum”, various displays and see where Benedictine is produced. The museum is a collection of monastical artefacts and art together with a collection of ancient ironwork consisting of boxes, locks and sundry things; interesting enough but not something you would go out of your way for. The displays showed how many miraculous ingredients are needed to produce the unique flavour – marketing mumbo jumbo in reality but an interesting collection of smells!
The production area and cellars where the highlight, a 1930’s style factory of great quality with minor modern refinements. Lots of varnished barrels, miles of piping reminiscent of a submarine, all in the cool of a traditional cellar. After this “experience” comes the bit we were all waiting for, the tasting. Straight it is very sweet like most liquors however they also produce B&B which is a mixture with Brandy and is nectar by comparison. We just had to have a bottle!
We then went for a quick walk around the town to remind
ourselves what it was like and make a reservation for dinner at the small
restaurant we had been to five years earlier. This is Le Grand Banc, a small
family run restaurant with a limited, low cost menu that was always full of
local people and a few discerning visitors. Certainly it was not an obvious
choice, when we returned we were tempted to go to other restaurants that
appeared to be better but they would not have compared with our choice.
The décor is plain, the
service friendly but indifferent, the food outstanding and great value. We had
the last assiette de fuite de mer, various fish dishes such as tuna, fromage
(simple but excellent) and a desert all for 68FF! Finished off with a calvados
this made a superb finale to the holiday in France. Without doubt the best meal
of the fortnight, a most relaxing way of eating really superb home cooked food
in the best simple French style.
Thursday
Regrettably the time finally arrived when we had to make
our way home; we set off at 7am on a grey morning for Brighton with the wind
light and what there was on the nose. I’m sure it was due to the purchase of the
spinnaker squeezer that the winds have turned out this way. Southerly for the crossing and down to
Grandcamp, Easterly as far as Deauville, Northerly to Fecamp and now still
northerly for the return crossing. We had hoped for it to increase to a 4 and
back to the North West but that proved to be a pious hope.
The only change was
a calamitous clattering about 8 miles out when the cutlass bearing failed. This
was soon fixed by a quick dive over the side and the application of a jubilee
clip to the shaft. Confidence was not at a high level however so we kept the
revs below 2000 making a maximum of 5 kn; the crossing therefore took rather
longer than expected. To relieve the boredom we trailed the wasp log to
calibrate the main log which was highly suspect – it turned out to be reading
only 80% of the true speed!
Eventually the shipping lanes and various showers were
traversed and the English coastline came in sight, always welcome. Time was
getting tight and by the time Beachy Head was in view we were well east due to
the slower than expected progress. In order to ensure a pint of English beer
would be available, we changed course for Newhaven, or rather went straight
ahead. This would, in theory, allow us to berth at about eight thirty rather
than ten which was the difference between a comfortable meal with a few drinks and eating whilst we were going along with nothing but crashing out when we had
moored.
The pilot indicated that there was lots of room and a club nearby; all was well until we tried to moor up on the outside of the marina. We soon found that at low water the marina was virtually dry, a sea of fine silt. Forced to moor in the dying light on the fuel pontoon we returned to the marina to consider our options; returning to Brighton was not attractive. We ended up having a pleasant meal on the fuel pontoon then motoring onto a berth in the marina at about 11:30 when the water level allowed us in. This was actually quite pleasurable for all concerned, including the crew; we went to sleep resigned to a morning in Newhaven and then a late night into Portsmouth.
The pilot indicated that there was lots of room and a club nearby; all was well until we tried to moor up on the outside of the marina. We soon found that at low water the marina was virtually dry, a sea of fine silt. Forced to moor in the dying light on the fuel pontoon we returned to the marina to consider our options; returning to Brighton was not attractive. We ended up having a pleasant meal on the fuel pontoon then motoring onto a berth in the marina at about 11:30 when the water level allowed us in. This was actually quite pleasurable for all concerned, including the crew; we went to sleep resigned to a morning in Newhaven and then a late night into Portsmouth.
Friday
We woke, refreshed, at seven am to a fine morning. Started to make the tea and found, to our surprise, that there was 2 m of water beneath
us! Within 10 minutes we had got up and reversed out into the middle of the
deep-water channel. All was saved, we could spend our last day in Chichester
rather than in that muddy hole.
Naturally the wind became a light westerly as we motored
past the piers at Brighton and along the coast keeping well inshore to cheat
the tide. Immediately after lunch we traversed the Looe channel in fine
visibility and soon passed through Chichester harbour to the Yacht Basin
where we moored at about 4:30pm, a longer passage than expected but much
shorter than Portsmouth and certainly better than having to go round the Owers.
We had time to pick up supplies and have tea at the newly refurbished
chandlery. Julian was also able to get a new set of olies at a reasonable
price; we toyed with the idea of a flag locker but there really was no place
for it on Meltem.
After a shower and a very pleasant meal on board we went to
visit the Yacht Club that had just been rebuilt. It was party night – a caile;
we stayed in the bar watching the festivities from behind the band, quite
enough after a long day.
Saturday
The last morning was spent rising in a leisurely manner then
having a walk around Birdham Pool. This would make an interesting place to stop
but is less than ideal from a tidal access point of view and involves bow too
mooring, it is peaceful, cheap and there is always space.
We walked around Birdham to find a very good store on the
main road a few miles away before returning via a boot sale, a local hotspot!
After lunch we fought the tide as far as the bar then
enjoyed a sleigh ride in fine weather back to Hamble, a fine end to a holiday
on a Yacht that, although enjoyable, had not included much sailing.
In conclusion we had covered about 400 miles of passage
making in good holiday weather visiting a host of interesting places for the
first time. The food had been excellent and despite the exchange rate the cost
was not excessive. A trip to be repeated!
